


baby, what's stoppin' you?

by 991102



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-08-11 15:51:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/991102/pseuds/991102
Summary: a collection of ficlets for daniel, seongwu, and minhyun ♡





	1. oh my love, my love, where did we go wrong?

it's odd how things fall into place—how the air grows colder and the leaves turn golden; how seongwu forgets that minhyun prefers more cream than sugar in this coffee; how minhyun stops staying up late to wait for seongwu to come home; how things that they loved about each other became things that they argued over. 

 

seongwu thinks it's a beautiful tragedy: he and minhyun's love. 

 

they loved each other so, so much and it was a fiery, explosive love. it was a love that was fated to end just as suddenly as it had began.

 

seongwu turns his eyes away, looking at the picture frames lining the walls, looking at the moments in time when they were will happy—still in love—as they stare mockingly back at him. seongwu bites back a sob, heart wrenching in his chest as minhyun sniffles from the other side of the room. seongwu closes his eyes and ignores the tears that stream down his cheeks. "you loved me, right?"

 

minhyun laughs, but the choked sound is like a knife to seongwu’s gut. seongwu’s never heard it so bitter, so heavy, so exhausted. minhyun’s voice is still so tender and soothing and when seongwu opens his eyes, minhyun’s small smile is just as beautiful as the first time seongwu saw it, but seongwu doesn’t feel the butterflies anymore. 

 

"i loved you more than i have ever loved anyone."

 

seongwu’s heart drops and a rush of emotion floods him, tears pooling in his eyes and a tightness wrapping itself around his throat. seongwu watches as minhyun’s lips quiver and jut out in that way that they always do when he’s holding back tears, and seongwu opens his arms, silently beckoning minhyun over. 

 

the older crashes into his embrace and seongwu holds him close, stroking minhyun’s hair as he sobs into the crook of his neck. seongwu’s comforted minhyun so many times before (and just as many times it was minhyun doing the comforting), but it’s different when it’s seongwu himself who’s reduced minhyun to this, and seongwu thinks it’s a hundred times more painful. 

 

minhyun’s sobs have quieted down but he doesn’t move from seongwu’s arms. “how did we end up like this, seongwu-ah?” 

 

tightening his hold on minhyun, seongwu presses a soft kiss to his temple. “i don’t know.” 

 

seongwu thinks that it was always meant to be this way, though.

 

a love like fire—intense and uncontrollable—was bound to burn out.

  
  
  
  



	2. professional boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> can i get niel as my bodyguard too please i'm fragile i demand to be carried

Seongwu counts the clouds in the sky.

 

He’s sat on the window sill of Sungwoon’s office, passing the time quietly as Sungwoon finishes up the last of his duties. 

 

Seongwu thinks about Daniel’s radiant laugh; how his lips curl into a wide smile and his face scrunches up; how Daniel said that when he laughs, his eyes close so much that he can’t see. 

 

He thinks about the younger’s happy-go-lucky attitude; the innocent way he enjoys life as it is in its purest form. 

 

Seongwu thinks about how things could be so different for them if they were under different circumstances.

 

(“You’re a complete contradiction, you know that?” Seongwu asks, watching from his spot on the couch as the younger dotes on his cat and covers the small animal in kisses.

 

Daniel looks up, bird’s nest of blonde hair a mess after rolling around on the carpet in a wrestling match with Ori. “What?”

 

“You.” Seongwu waves in the younger’s direction. “You are so different from what I thought you would be.” 

 

The younger laughs, holding his cat to his chest as he hops onto the opposite side of the couch. He pats Ori’s head affectionately and only further proves Seongwu’s point. “You can’t you say that and not elaborate, hyung.”

 

Seongwu notices that Daniel called him “hyung” and not “sir” but he ignores it. He thinks he prefers it far more. 

 

The older hums and he leans further into the couch, snuggling into its warmth. “You’re so… soft.” 

 

Daniel thinks it’s hilarious. Ori hops off of him as his entire body shakes with laughter. “ _ Soft _ ? Am I?”

 

Seongwu nods. Really, he thinks it’s outrageous that that is even up for debate. 

 

The blonde grins. “Okay. Why do you think I’m soft?” 

 

Seongwu’s already got a mile long ancient scroll of answers to that question but he decides it’s easier to just say what’s on the top of the list. 

 

“You’re really gentle.” 

 

“Gentle?” Daniel’s voice is little more than a whisper, voice gone soft. 

 

Seongwu wonders if he’s said too much. He stays silent for a moment, simply looking at the younger and wondering why he makes him feel so safe. 

 

The blonde holds his stare with serious eyes. It’s odd, really, how Daniel has so many different kinds of stares. Seongwu doesn’t know what this stare means or what the emotions flickering in his eyes are but he decides that he likes it just as much as the other ones.

 

Seongwu closes his eyes for a moment. It’s late now, nearing midnight, and the usual wave of exhaustion crashes onto him like clockwork. 

 

It should make him nervous—the fact that Daniel is still looking at him, studying him, when he opens his eyes—but it doesn’t. It’s calming. 

 

“You are. You treat everything—” Seongwu stops himself. He wonders if he’s crossing a boundary; he wonders if he can draw that line again once he’s smeared it. Seongwu decides that that is something that he can think about in the morning. “You treat  _ me _ with so much care.”

 

Seongwu watches as a smile nudges at Daniel’s lips; watches as it makes him glow with the force of a million suns and lights his eyes on fire. 

 

“It’s nice.” Seongwu hums. “You’re just real fucking gentle though you could probably break my arm with your thumb.” 

 

The blonde’s smile falters for a moment and his eyebrows furrow. “I would never hurt you.” He says it softly but there’s something in his voice that makes Seongwu smile. “I will protect you with my life. If someone touches a hair on your head, I will break every bone in their body.” 

 

Seongwu hums. “It’s your job.”

 

The younger looks at him for a minute. 

 

Seongwu’s eyelids grow heavy as exhaustion slowly drags him down under. 

 

The last thing Seongwu sees before he slips into the darkness is Daniel’s bitter smile. 

 

“You are right, sir.”

 

It’s so easy to forget who they are when Daniel calls him hyung. 

 

Maybe that’s why it’s like a slap in the face, a bucket of cold water poured over his head, when Daniel calls him sir.) 


	3. red wine and blue skies

“what do you  _ really _ want to do?” seongwu asks, wine glass balanced precariously between two fingers as he sits perched up on daniel’s balcony railing. daniel would ask him to hop down, more for his sanity than seongwu’s safety, but he knows the older would only lean back further to make him more miserable. “i know you don’t want your parents’ firm.” 

 

it’s another one of those nights where seongwu doesn’t know why he’s run off to daniel’s place and daniel doesn’t know why he granted seongwu sanctuary, and this time they’re looking at the stars and simply existing in each other’s orbits—it’s not for the tabloids, courtesy of dispatch camping out around daniel’s building; it’s not to piss off their parents; it’s just seongwu and daniel (and that scares daniel more than it should).

 

daniel sucks in a breath. 

 

it’s been a long time since anyone has asked him that and he doesn’t really remember what pretty words he used to say; what he’s supposed to say. 

 

so he says what’s in his heart. 

 

“i love to dance.” daniel admits with a slow sip of his wine, eyes pinned onto seongwu’s profile, watching for his reaction; hopeful is the part of him that wants ( _ begs _ ) seongwu to understand; bitter is the part of him that can’t forget the condescending bite in his father’s voice when daniel told him; scared is the part of him that  _ knows _ seongwu wouldn’t do that to him,  _ knows _ seongwu is the one person who would understand him,  _ knows  _ seongwu is different.

 

seongwu grins, a little teasing lilt to his voice. “predictable.”

 

the moonlight does little to illuminate seongwu’s face, but daniel doesn’t miss the glimmer of pride in seongwu’s eyes. he won’t forget it either.

 

daniel rolls his eyes, but he can’t bite back a grin. “and what, may i ask, makes you say that?” 

 

“you’re kind of a show off when we go to clubs.” the older wrinkles his nose, laughing as daniel’s ears redden. “and don’t think i don’t notice you dancing to every single song you hear.” 

 

“i can’t help it!” he laughs along, ducking his head in embarrassment. “it’s a natural reflex.”

 

“i find it concerning that your natural reflex is to body roll to a ballad.”

 

“some points have been made.” the blonde grunts. faking a pout, but not without sharing a small smile with seongwu. it’s nice,  _ more than nice _ , to talk to someone about what he loves most. “what about you?” 

 

“what about me?” seongwu snorts, looking at daniel with those eyes again; that odd, characteristic look of seongwu’s that both taunts him to go on and pleads him to drop it. 

 

he won’t back down on this one, though. he wants to know (he wants to know a lot more about seongwu than he will ever dare admit). “what do you love?” 

 

seongwu is quiet for a long while, but daniel has long mastered the art of patience, and he counts the stars until seongwu answers his question.  _ if _ he wants to.

 

he’s almost going to change the topic when seongwu says it.

 

“poems.” 

 

it’s barely above a whisper, light enough to be blown away by the wind, but daniel hears it. 

 

“poetry?” he tests it on his tongue, careful to say it with pure curiosity—no bite, no condescension. “you’re a poet?” 

 

seongwu closes his eyes and leans his head back, speaking more to the sky above him than to daniel. “not just yet, but i’d like to be one. maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day.” 

 

it’s odd, daniel thinks. he would have never guessed seongwu would write poems, but now that he’s got the image in his head, he couldn’t imagine seongwu doing anything else. 

 

“will you read me your poems some day?” 

 

a smile tugs at seongwu’s lips, eyes still closed, and daniel watches as it makes him glow. 

 

“once i publish my book, you can read them yourself.” 


	4. like playing with fire

Jihoon freezes mid-sentence, wide smile faltering, and eyes growing unfocused as he turns his head to look at the two figures on the field.

 

Daniel watches on in confusion as he follows Jihoon’s line of sight, and immediately dread pools in the pit of his stomach when his eyes land on Seongwu. 

 

He doesn’t have to hear Jihoon say it. He doesn’t have to look around to confirm that every other clairvoyant in a mile radius is in the same daze as Jihoon. Daniel knows. 

 

Minhyun is the second one to catch on; concern coloring his features once he notices Sungwoon’s glossy eyes. He stares at Seongwu’s back intently, gears already turning in his head, hands twitching in his lap. “Something is wrong.” 

 

Sungwoon snaps out of his trance with a sharp breath; Jihoon following a beat after. 

 

Daniel and Minhyun follow the two others as they weave through the stands and rush to the edge of the field. 

 

“Niel, call your demons.” 

 

“What? I can’t just—” Daniel recoils when Sungwoon shoots him a sharp glare. “Right now? I can’t just do that out of the blue!”  

 

Sungwoon hisses. “Just do it.  _ Now.  _ Make your little demon friends take Seongwu’s opponent away from him. Preferably very far.” 

 

The blonde groans but he does what Sungwoon says without bothering to argue. If there was one thing Daniel learned over the past month, it was to trust Sungwoon. 

 

Daniel closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. 

 

His fingers tingle and his breath hitches with the familiar sensation of fire burning low in his chest, skin hot to the touch and flames crackling on his palms. 

 

(“I manipulate hellfire.”

 

“So… you’re like Zuko?” Seongwu asks, and he blinks in this cat-like way that actually looks like genuine curiosity, voice rid of the sarcastic and teasing lilt that usually laced it. 

 

“No, I’m not  _ Zuko _ .” Laughter falls from Daniel’s lips easily, and he shakes his head, focusing his energy into lighting a flame on the tip of his finger and pausing for a second before blowing it out like a candle. “I can control fire, but I like to summon demons more.” 

 

“So… Satan.”

 

The blonde sighs. “Close enough.”) 

 

Daniel hums a looping melody; one with distinct rises and falls; until the small hairs on his neck stand on end. He should be used to their presence by now but it’s kind of hard  _ not  _ to shiver what with how the temperature always drops once the spirits are awakened.

 

Jihoon groans, stink-eyeing a ghoul that got too close for comfort. “Can you command them to go away already? I’m going to sock this one in the throat if he continues to stare at me.” 

 

Daniel rolls his eyes but he does as Jihoon says, waving them off with a grin and snickering at the high pitched screams of Seongwu’s opponent as he’s dragged away mid-battle by a mob of ghouls. 

 

Seongwu cocks his head to the side and looks in their direction in confusion. They can’t hear him from so far away but he looks to be asking why they’re interrupting his match.

The older nudges Minhyun. “Force field.” 

 

Minhyun shoots a look of confusion at Sungwoon but the older’s eyes are glued to Seongwu. “What?” 

 

“Do it.” Sungwoon hisses, eyes refusing to leave Seongwu’s approaching figure. “Make sure it completely surrounds Seongwu.” 

 

Grumbling something about this not sounding like a good idea under his breath, Minhyun reluctantly lifts his hands and closes his eyes. The trio watch with bated breath as Minhyun clenches his fists and tilts his head to the sky. They hear the crackle of electricity before they see it. A shock of blue hums in the palm of Minhyun’s hands, electricity flowing through his veins and bouncing from the tips of his fingers.

 

Seongwu has crossed most of the distance separating them now and he only looks more confused, eyes focused on Minhyun’s hands. 

 

A bolt of lightning splits the sky in two, and a violent crack of thunder shakes the ground, making the audience flinch, staring up at the sudden change of weather (courtesy of Hwang Minhyun).  

 

At this point, Seongwu isn’t just confused, but he’s concerned too, lips pursed as he continues to come closer. He’s just a little over 100 yards from them when Minhyun breathes out a huff and waves his hand in a quick motion; and just like that, Minhyun drops a dome shaped force field around Seongwu. 

 

Daniel’s stomach churns.

 

Despite Seongwu’s competitive edge and love of a good match, Daniel’s never had to worry about him; it’s with pride that he watches Seongwu tear apart time and space with a twirl of his fingers and a confident smirk curling at his lips; that he watches Seongwu win match after match; that he watches Seongwu come running to him after each one with a happy grin on his lips.

 

The brunette is skilled, a natural born fighter as much as he is a disciplined student, and considering the fact that the galaxy is at the mercy of his fingertips, he’s a force to be reckoned with.

 

(“Asterokinesis.” Seongwu grins and tugs on his hoodie strings a bit tighter to block out the cold air. The younger doesn’t know what he should look at: Seongwu’s glittering eyes or the meteor shower that Seongwu has painted across the night sky. Seongwu breathes out a small sigh and he says it more to himself than to Daniel, but Daniel hears him loud and clear; hears the pride that drips from his words; hears the smile in his voice. “That’s my power.”)

 

Seongwu isn’t the fifth seat for nothing. 

 

He draws his power from a completely different dimension; one of cosmic energy: pure, ambiguous, limitless. 

 

It’s dangerous, though—wielding power like Seongwu’s—like lighting flares in the dark of night; smoke pillowing into the air signalling the roaring of a fire; flashing lights and big neon sign saying “I’m right here!”. 

 

It’s easy to trace such intense, pure energy.

And with the right amount of dark magic, it’s also easy to hijack; to slice through the dimensions; to interrupt the flow of magic and manipulate it in just the right way; to take, exploit,  _ command _ power that is not yours.

 

This is the point that it finally sinks in.  

 

It’s going to happen and Daniel can’t do anything about it.

 

Seongwu stares at the wall of crackling electricity before him and shoots them a grim look, hands clenched in fists as he hugs himself and backs away from the force field. “What’s happening?”   

 

Sungwoon moves closer and warns him over the roll of thunder. “Seongwu, do not allow them to take what is yours.” 


	5. it was always you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sign this petition to make seongwu and minhyun go to the aurora on battle trip

_ might be déjà vu _

_ first time we met,  _

_ but I remembered you _

  
  
  


Minhyun is 6 years old when he learns what the aurora is. 

 

(He’s tucked into the old cot in the corner of the hut, wool blankets wrapped snugly around his shoulders as cuddles up to his grandma for warmth, and the lamp burns silently, flickering and tossing shadows onto the hut walls. Grandpa would always make up stories using the things and animals the shadows looked like, but Grandma liked to soothe Minhyun to sleep with real stories; stories of the funny things she and her brothers and sisters did when they were his age; stories about Minhyun’s parents (he always loved these ones the most); stories of her long lost tortoise; stories that would make Minhyun laugh, hope, and wonder. 

 

Tonight, Minhyun asked her to tell him the story of how she and Grandpa met. 

 

“Did you know that there’s a legend saying you will meet the love of your life at the same place your grandparents found each other?” 

 

He shakes his head. Minhyun, in the six years of life, hadn’t thought about things like love (aside from the love he shares with his grandparents), but as he watches his grandmother’s eyes soften as she glances at his grandfather, Minhyun thinks it must be nice.

 

“My grandmother told me this and now it’s my turn to tell you.” Grandma hums and hugs Minhyun closer to her side. “Forty years ago, me and your grandpa met eact other at the aurora.” 

 

Minhyun has to fight off a yawn, eyes slowly falling shut with each passing minute, but he wants to hear this story. “What’s the aurora?”)

 

It’s later, on the night of Minhyun’s 18th birthday, that Minhyun learns the aurora is the most beautiful thing he will ever lay eyes on. 

 

(“So  _ this _ is the aurora.” Minhyun finally says. 

 

He doesn’t know what he thought the aurora would be like, surely his grandmother had put it how it is, but he didn’t think it would be like  _ this _ . 

 

Minhyun has stared at the sky for an hour in silence but he still doesn’t think he’s taken it all in yet; the colors, the stars, the atmosphere, the clear air, the simplicity and the perfection.

 

It’s simply magical. 

 

Minhyun doesn’t think there is any other word to describe the sight before him. 

 

“Hell yeah, it is.” 

 

A voice pipes up from his right and Minhyun startles, hands coming up to protect himself. 

 

Minhyun’s eyes shoot open and he chokes out a cough at the sudden appearance of this  _ thing _ —this boy that looks more parts parka and knit scarf than actual boy. 

 

“Oops!” The boy laughs and the sound is smothered by his scarf but it sounds just as clear and chipper. “I didn’t mean to startle you!” 

 

Minhyun colors in embarrassment and he looks at the boy in confusion. “Did you just pop up out of thin air?” 

 

He can’t make out much with how big the boy’s scarf actually is, but Minhyun can see his eyes and he watches as they swim with mirth. The boy snickers. “Actually I got here half an hour ago.”)

 

Minhyun is 21 years old when he learns the art of patience. 

(He’s come to the aurora 3 times now and 3 times he’s gone home without finding the love of his life. 

 

The aurora is always just as stunning each time he comes though, and Seongwu (Minhyun forgot to ask for his name the first time but Seongwu made sure to ask for his name the 2nd time they ran into each other) is always there to provide commentary; to share stories; to fill the silence with his laughter; to simply exist next to Minhyun year after year without question. 

 

“Seongwu, do you live around here?” 

 

The boy shakes his head and the little ball of fluff on the top of his hat bobbles from side to side. “Nope.” Seongwu juts his chin at the colors painting the sky. “It takes me 2 days of travel to look at this beaut.” 

 

Minhyun quirks a brow. “And how long do you stay?” 

 

Seongwu hums and he shrugs nonchalantly. “I stay the night and I start my journey back home in the morning.” 

 

“You’re always here when I am, though?” 

 

The boy laughs and he narrows his eyes teasingly at Minhyun. “Are you calling me a stalker, Hwang Minhyun?” 

 

He snorts. “I wouldn’t dare.” 

 

Seongwu grins after a moment and his eyes glimmer with something that Minhyun can’t read. “It’s probably just a coincidence.”)

 

It’s after 5 years that Minhyun finally figures it out.

 

(“It’s you, isn’t it?” Minhyun asks, Seongwu’s next to him with the same wool scarf on, eyes swimming with the same warmth, but it comes out as more of a statement than a question. He stares up at the vibrant lights coloring the sky and watches as his breath pillows into the air. 

 

Minhyun sucks in a sharp breath as the thought falls onto him; it’s not like a cold bucket of water, but rather a slow dawning of an epiphany; it’s not an abrupt stop, but a beginning of an understanding.

 

Seongwu laughs and Minhyun can hear the silent  _ “Finally.” _ in his laughter.

 

The world should come crashing down, but it doesn’t. 

 

It’s almost as if Minhyun had known it, that what he always wanted ( _ needed _ ) was Seongwu and all the beautiful and inexplicable things that come with him, all along. 

 

Really, Minhyun thinks that things are starting to go right for him; something has fallen into place and someone has filled a space. Minhyun breathes out a chuckle. “It was always you.” 

 

“I think that’s for you to decide.” Seongwu grins and he shrugs his shoulders as he looks at Minhyun with just as much familiarity as wonder. “I’d hope so, though.”)  

 

Minhyun is 27 years old when he learns that love  _ is _ nice. 

 

(“I still can’t believe you thought I was a stalker.” 

 

Minhyun whines. “I did not say that!” 

 

“You implied it!”) 

  
  
  


_ you can go any which way  _

_ don’t matter how far _

_ because I know we’re written in the stars _

  
  



	6. the ugly and the beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be a complete fic for onghwang week but alas, i am a pile of horse shit

Minhyun moves in when Seongwu is seven and Euigeon is six.

 

Uncle Hyun had a hand on the strange boy’s shoulder and said he, Minhyun, would stay with them from now on. “Minhyun will share a room with Seongwu and Euigeonie, is that okay, boys?” 

 

Seongwu nodded and nudged Euigeon to do the same. 

 

Euigeon leaned over and murmured into Seongwu’s ear, “Why is he going to stay with us?”

 

That was the thing about Euigeon. 

 

Euigeon is younger than Seongwu and he didn’t understand the things Seongwu could understand. Euigeon didn’t understand why Minhyun had to stay with them but Seongwu did. Euigeon didn’t know what the neighbors said about their home and about Uncle Hyun but Seongwu did. 

 

The Turtle House. 

 

That’s what the neighbors and the nice old lady at the market would call their home. 

 

Seongwu doesn’t remember why they chose turtle but he thinks it’s because Uncle Hyun kind of looks like that one turtle Pokemon. 

 

Seongwu does remember though, when Uncle Hyun would take them to the park or the market and the other adults would lower their voices and speak in hushed murmurs. Seongwu remembers how their eyes would flicker about to make sure Uncle Hyun was out of earshot when they’d say “They’re Jonghyun’s boys. You know, don’t you? The Turtle House.” 

 

They’d always say it with such pity. 

 

Seongwu had always known why they said it in that manner. He had figured it out long before the others did, long before Uncle Hyun or the other adults considered him “old enough to understand”. 

It’s because they are orphans.

 

Maybe not in the literal sense—Euigeon’s father is well and so is Seongwu’s mother and Seongwu is certain he’s heard Uncle Hyun speaking to Jisung hyung’s mother over the phone late at night. They have parents, yes, but they don’t have a family.

 

They are the lost boys; the abandoned children; the kids their parents didn’t want or left too early. 

 

Uncle Hyun had taken them in. 

 

Maybe the neighbors and the nice old lady at the marker think of the Turtle House as an orphanage but to Seongwu, to the others, it is their home.  

 

Minhyun is a lost child too and now, he belongs at The Turtle House. 

 

Seongwu and Euigeon lead Minhyun to their room and Euigeon hops onto the lower bunk of their bunk bed; marking his territory. 

 

Seongwu stares at the boy and he thinks the boy must be no older than Euigeon. 

 

At the thought of Euigeon, Seongwu glances over at the younger and finds him staring at Minhyun; eyes focused and lips pursed. Seongwu knows that look; that calculating, piercing look in Euigeon’s eyes. Seongwu knows that Euigeon is sizing Minhyun up and deciding whether or not Minhyun is worth his time. 

 

It’s something Euigeon does a lot whether he knows it or not; the whole determining value thing. Seongwu has watched Euigeon do it in their backyard, in the candy aisle at the grocery store, at the department store Uncle Hyun takes them to when they have to buy clothes for school, with the toys and games in their shared room, and now he’s doing it with Minhyun. 

 

To six year old Euigeon, there are only two kinds of things in this world; things that are ugly and things that are pretty. 

 

Euigeon holds his head high, arms crossed over his chest, and Seongwu thinks he already knows the results of Euigeon’s little assessment.  

 

Euigeon thinks Minhyun is ugly. 

 

Ugly in his ugly shirt and ugly jeans and ugly haircut. 

 

Seongwu shoots a warning glare at Euigeon who only bats his eyelashes. He looks back over his shoulder at Minhyun who hovers in the doorway like a frightened bird. Out of the kindness of his heart or maybe more out of pity, Seongwu moves to take the boy’s hand. Seongwu only means to tug him into the room but he stops dead in his tracks when Minhyun flinches, a whimper leaving him as he retreats back further into the corridor. 

 

At this, Euigeon rises from his spot and sidles up beside Seongwu, startled by Minhyun’s reaction. Euigeon looks like he wants to say or do something but he stays quiet after Seongwu shakes his head no. 

 

The boy wrings his hands and he has his eyes downcast, greasy bangs hiding his face from Seongwu and Euigeon’s eyes.

 

Seongwu takes a slow, tentative step towards Minhyun, encouraged when the boy doesn’t move back, and he extends a hand. “I won’t hurt you. Euigeonie won’t either.” the boy’s eyes flicker from Seongwu to Euigeon, suspicion swirling in his glossy eyes and Euigeon nods, scratching his ear as he shoots the boy a grin. Seongwu moves closer. “It’s okay. You are safe here with us.” 

 

Euigeon nods and he hops in place behind Seongwu. “We’re your friends!” 

 

Seongwu snorts at Euigeon’s antics (he’s always the one to ruin the serious mood) but he nods along, lips quirking into a slow smile when he notices Minhyun emerging from the corridor. Seongwu and Euigeon watch with bated breath as Minhyun moves closer to Seongwu, shaky hand lifting inch by inch until it hovers over Seongwu’s. 

 

“This place is your home now, Minhyun.” Seongwu murmurs, cautious to make his voice soft and soothing like Uncle Hyun’s when he kisses their foreheads and wishes them sweet dreams at bedtime.  

 

The boy takes Seongwu’s hand. 

 

Minhyun cracks a smile and he looks from Seongwu to Euigeon. “I hope so.” 


	7. oh what a beautiful world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seongwu and minhyun own a pottery studio together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for my dearest jenny <3

The sun shines into the studio windows in soft stripes of yellow and Seongwu looks out into the spring day with a hum, snapping a quick picture of the blue sky and watching with a fond smile as his kids—the little balls of energy bundled in jackets aren’t actually  _ his _ kids, but he can’t help calling them that—run into the building, parents calling after them to slow down and watch the stairs.

 

Saturday mornings are Seongwu’s favorite, and if the kids filing into the studio with little aprons on are the reason why, Seongwu makes sure to take a picture to make the moment last forever.

 

Seongwu ties an apron around his waist, the words  _ Aurora’s Studio  _ printed on the front of it, and he starts class with a clap of his hands, “Good morning, kids! Today we’re going to make tiny pots!” 

 

(If they spend more time talking and playing around than they do making actual pottery, no one has to know. 

 

And if Seongwu takes a million pictures of his students while they play with the clay and make a mess of things, it’s okay because he has their parents’ permission. He passed out a permission slip and all.

 

And if Minhyun comes in and watches him with a fond smile as he teaches the class and helps a kid actually make something that _ looks _ like a pot, like what her parents are paying him to do, Seongwu pretends not to notice him.)

 

It’s only after the kids have gone home that Seongwu acknowledges Minhyun, sinking into his arms and breathing out an exhausted sigh onto the sensitive skin of his neck. The older shivers at the sensation, breath hitching just above Seongwu’s ear, and Seongwu does it again just to play with him.

 

“You’re an absolute mess.” Minhyun holds him at an arm’s length after a minute, and he looks him up and down with a grimace. 

 

The clay from Seongwu’s apron had gotten on Minhyun’s nice sweater in the hug and Seongwu flashes him a blinding smile in apology, but not without smearing some onto the tip of Minhyun’s nose with a finger. Minhyun groans and Seongwu laughs, “I teach a pottery class, Minhyun.”

 

“I teach pottery too, Seongwu.” Minhyun wrinkles his nose as he rubs his thumb on Seongwu’s jaw. Seongwu stays still and allows Minhyun to clean him up, smiling at the attention, and Minhyun musses up his bangs, “And I don’t get clay in my hair.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m too messy for you! Just marry your broom and go!” Seongwu rolls his eyes with a snort and he juts his chin at Minhyun’s favorite broom. 

 

He stares up at Minhyun with shining eyes, pleading as an innocent smile plays on his lips—he knows Minhyun won’t say no to him, but acting cute always makes Minhyun blush a shade darker. “Help me clean up, pretty please?” 

 

Seongwu would usually help Minhyun with cleaning up the place, but today he walks across the space and stays crouched in front of the drying rack in the corner of the room, staring at his students’ crooked, lopsided pots with heart-filled eyes.

 

“You’re so biased.” Minhyun snorts from across the room, favorite broomstick now in hand as he sweeps under the tables. 

 

Seongwu pretends not to know what Minhyun is talking about, playing dumb as he continues to take pictures of the pots, “I have no idea what you mean, Hwang Minhyun!” 

 

Minhyun hums, tone serene but something in it sounds cheeky, like he’s teasing Seongwu, “You don’t react that way when your other students make something nice.” 

 

At that, Seongwu shoots a glare at the older over his shoulder, drawing his brows together, acting outraged, “I do too!”

 

(And maybe Seongwu  _ is _ a little, tiny bit biased, favoring and coddling his kids more than his adult students, but how could he not when the kids always bounded up to him with cute grins and a chorus of “good morning!” at the start of every lesson? 

 

It’s not Seongwu’s fault, really. The heavens had decided on it.)

 

Seongwu crosses his arms over his chest, “I always make sure to compliment my students!” And he does, really. He had read something on the internet about how compliments help students learn and boost confidence, and his students always tend to work harder after he points out what they are doing well. Seongwu holds his head high with a confident tilt of his lips, “Positive feedback… I do that.” 

 

The light sound of sweeping pauses for a moment, and then it continues. “Of course, you do.”

 

Minhyun doesn’t sound convinced though, Seongwu can hear the doubt in his voice, and when Seongwu turns to look at him, a teasing smile is still playing on Minhyun’s lips. Minhyun stares back at him with challenging eyes as if to say “are you sure about that?” 

 

Seongwu would rather drink slip than say it out loud, but this is what he loves most about Minhyun, maybe. To others, and maybe to Seongwu at the beginning, Minhyun comes off as a picture perfect, polite and mannered, cold city boy—and Seongwu supposes that he  _ is _ , sometimes—, but once you stick around for a little, he’s a lot different than that. 

 

Minhyun pokes fun at Seongwu and annoys him to no end, always challenging him and pressing on his buttons for the hell of it—if Seongwu listens closely, he thinks he can make out Minhyun defending himself by saying “your reactions are funny.”

 

In simple words, Hwang Minhyun is an annoying brat. 

 

And unfortunately, Seongwu loves him. 

 

Seongwu loves all the sides of Minhyun—the highs, the lows, who he is on the outside, and who he is on the inside.

 

He’s still annoying, though, and he’s still a brat, so Seongwu pouts, turning away from him with a grunt. He grumbles under his breath as he goes back to taking pictures of the pots if only just to spite Minhyun, “I just think my kids make cute pots! Sue me!”

 

From across the room, Minhyun laughs, and the sound echoes in the quiet of the afternoon, finding its way into Seongwu’s heart. Minhyun hums as he continues to sweep under the tables, and he mumbles under his breath more to himself than to Seongwu, “Cute.” 

 

Seongwu pretends he doesn’t hear it, continuing to sulk if only to make Minhyun walk over and hug it out of him.

 

(He does.) 


	8. tomorrow together

“Didn’t think you would cry for me.” 

 

Minhyun’s heart slams to a stop. 

 

He knows that voice; it read him poetry after lessons and put him to sleep on nights that storms thundered too close to home. Minhyun knows it like he knows his own name, familiar like the stars in the sky and the flowers that line the forest floor.

 

Minhyun looks up from the robes in his hands, tear stained and still smelling like Seongwu, and his voice catches in his throat. 

 

Seongwu stands in front of Minhyun’s bookcase in a clean set of blue robes, wet hair hanging in his eyes, and a small, apologetic smile tilting his lips. A shallow cut draws a map from Seongwu’s temple to the edge of his jaw and the bandage on his left hand is more parts red than white, but he’s come home to Minhyun. 

 

“Looks like I didn’t die, after all.” The bloodied and bruised but  _ breathing _ knight smiles, slow and radiant and all parts as beautiful as the night sky itself. 

 

“Good.” Minhyun breathes out as he closes the distance between them, moving to stand in front of him, hands cupping his face. He has to feel him. He has to know that this is real, that Seongwu is real. The smile that breaks on his lips is one of a million words. Love, among other things. “Now I can kill you myself.”

 

Seongwu moves away from Minhyun a fraction, and he draws a chain from under his collar. 

 

“Before you do that,” A gold band hangs from Seongwu’s chain. Seongwu smiles, eyes filled with hope and looking like everything Minhyun has ever wanted. “Do you still want to marry me?” 

 

“Yes.” Minhyun nods, and he presses a kiss to the stars on Seongwu’s face. “Tomorrow.” 

 

Minhyun hasn’t loved anyone more than he loves Seongwu, and he will be with him in this life and all the lifetimes that will follow.

 

And if time and age place a distance between them, the stars will guide him back home.

 

Minhyun knows it. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! kudos and comments are always appreciated ! if you want to contact me you can find me here on twitter [@heartslgns](https://twitter.com/heartslgns) or on [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ongdromeda) if you prefer to stay anon ^~^


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